


The Words You Won't Say

by mushiemadarame



Series: Teen Wolf fics from Tumblr [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Everybody Lives, Fluff and Smut, M/M, One Shot, Some Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-21
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-11-02 00:06:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,949
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17877374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mushiemadarame/pseuds/mushiemadarame
Summary: Derek has conflicted feelings for Stiles, unaware that they are reciprocated. One night, Stiles' car breaks down and everything changes, but not really.





	The Words You Won't Say

Derek is definitely lusting after Stiles, no matter how many times he tries to tell himself he’s not, he just can’t help it. But he keeps gazing from a distance, because Stiles is underage and Derek made that mistake once, and he’s not going to turn into Kate.

In a way, he knows he will never be like Kate, but Derek’s guilt has never really stopped being a permanent weight right under his ribs, pressing on his lungs every time he looks at Stiles and his heart starts beating faster and that little voice in the back of his head starts chanting “You’re going to turn into her. You’re tainted, and stained with black horror, and it’ll eat you whole and you’re going to turn into her. And you’re going to hurt him”.

So Derek tries to forget Stiles, without really succeeding, first of all, because they spend most of their time together, running away from danger, building a strong pack. Maybe even more than when he was an alpha, now that Scott is their leader, he requires them to get along, all of them: Isaac, Allison, Lydia, Derek, Erica and Boyd. So they spend a lot of time together, just trying to get to know each other, starting to trust each other, to understand each other.

After a time, Derek’s fascination for Stiles - one that he didn’t even realize he was developing - turns into something different. Curiosity first, then observation, knowledge later, and with that comes a whole new wave of feelings and emotions that he’s not quite sure how to handle, how to feel even.

But Stiles is barely over seventeen, and Derek won’t touch him. Derek refuses to hurt Stiles.

Stiles, on the other hand, thinks that Derek doesn’t have much more than polite affection for him. Of course, they’re a pack and as such, they spend a lot of time together, and maybe they could even be called friends. But Derek always seems so hesitant around him, not showing that barely hidden pride like he does when anyone else in their dysfunctional little family manages to improve, to learn something new.

Stiles tries and tries, starts learning a new language from Lydia, asks Boyd to help him with his self-defence, Erica to be a better listener, even Isaac just to get to know him more, asks Allison to teach him how to shoot an arrow. So when he finally manages to hit the target right, he lets his fists fly in the air and looks at Derek instinctively, but finds him looking away, Stiles’ feeling of victory immediately dimmed. He’s trying to better himself, and he is doing it for himself, but sometimes he’d just like Derek to notice it too.

After all, he always smiles that tiny proud smile when anybody else accomplishes something.

And maybe Stiles pictures what it would be like, sometimes, to be with Derek, to have a relationship where they trust each other, where they love each other strongly. A relationship close enough that Stiles can sit beside Derek and just lean into him, and Derek might take his hand and kiss it absentmindedly, wonders what it would be like to tell his dad about it.

He’s quite sure his dad wouldn’t be too happy, what with the age of consent and the formerly wanted werewolf, but Stiles thinks that’s just relative, he would be considered of age in other countries anyway.

It’s an opinion that Derek doesn’t share, not that Stiles knows. But Derek watches this boy, this 17-year-old, grow up steadier and stronger. There’s a lot of Stiles that has always been Stiles, but some things are new: his broad shoulders are new, his more defined jaw, his acquired ability to study people quickly. Stiles has always been a good judge of character, Derek knows that, but time and experience have made him even better, and Derek is sometimes scared that Stiles could be able to read him too, and would agree with that little vicious voice.

So a year and a half go by, and Stiles turns eighteen, and the pack has a huge party in the woods, behind the old Hale mansion, which has been rebuilt, not like before. Derek couldn’t quite bear the thought of having the house of his childhood back but not his family, so he decided to ask his new pack, his new family. So the house is different, but he can feel it filling with love anew, and the pack is big and healthy. 

They have a big party.

The sheriff is there, Melissa McCall, and even Chris Argent. They celebrate Stiles turning 18 on the 14th of July, a couple of months after Scott and just a few weeks before Erica. They celebrate, and they have a great time, and Derek can feel the happiness around him, can hear it in Stiles’ brilliant laugh. His pack is happy, and Derek is happy, and maybe that cruel voice inside of him has no room to speak anymore, because now Stiles is eighteen, but Derek doesn’t let himself have that happiness, and the reasons are maybe fewer and fewer, sometimes he can’t even find any for having to stop wanting Stiles, but he just can’t.

Another couple of months go by, a neighbour pack visits, brings their respect to the new McCall pack and to Derek whose family they had known, and things have been quiet, and things are still happy.   
  
It’s just a night like any other, really. The pack has pizza at the Hale house, they end up sprawled all over the living room and at some point Stiles remembers something and captures Derek’s attention away from the movie they were watching and he can’t even remember how they just start talking about borders hunched over an old Beacon Hills map until one by one the pack starts heading home, Derek and Stiles still deep in conversation.

Midnight turns to 1 and 1 to 2, and at some point, Stiles just startles at his watch and goes “Oh shit.”, Derek looks at his too and says “Shit indeed. You should go home, it’s late.”.

So Stiles nods and gets up, stretching his arms high and picking up his bag to head for the door, Derek following behind to lock after him.

Stiles gets to his car, Derek waiting for him to start it and go home, but when Stiles tries to start the jeep, it fails him. He tries again, the once more. Derek can hear him sigh and get back out, and he can see him come back to the door on which he’s still leaning.

“Roscoe has betrayed me.” Stiles declares dejectedly, an incredulous expression on his face.

Derek snorts, unsurprised, and answers “About time.”.

Stiles just glares at him and shoulders his way back into the house, Derek laughing silently behind him.

“I’m sleeping on the couch!” is what Stiles shouts from the living room, already taking off his shoes.

Everyone in the pack has a room, everyone but Stiles, because he always says that he can just sleep in Allison or Isaac’s because she’d be either with Scott or Isaac, or the three would all be together anyway. In the end, he always sleeps on the couch, too tired to make it to a room, or with the excuse of not wanting to “Ruin your scent vibe,” he said to Isaac once.

“You can sleep in my room.” Derek only realises what he’s said when it’s already out of his mouth, no idea where it came from. He just blurts it out and when Stiles agrees enthusiastically, it’s too late for Derek to take it back, he just has to roll with it.

So they both get up on the second floor and into Derek’s room, and it’s just a little awkward, both of them taking their clothes off with their backs to each other and on opposites sides of the bed until they lie down under the covers side by side.

Derek closes his eyes, tries to slow down his breath and let sleep take him, but Stiles just won’t stop moving, moving his arm here and there, rolling his neck, brushing an inexistent itch on his cheek.

“Stiles,” Derek gets out in an irritated breath, “Just stop moving.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry.” So Stiles does, but it lasts for more or less thirty seconds and Derek just can’t take it anymore. He grips Stiles by the shoulders and moves him on his side, facing the wall next to the bed, then leans into his back and throws an arm around his middle.

“Uhm... Derek…” Stiles starts, but Derek stops him “This should make you stop.” And that’s how Derek ends up spooning Stiles.

It works, and they both fall asleep. But around 5 AM, Stiles startles out of a dream, waking Derek up.

“Are you okay?” is Derek’s groggy whispered breath behind his ear, and Stiles shivers, because his dream had featured Derek whispering filthy nothings just like that, and the air immediately changes, because Derek can smell Stiles’ arousal, and Stiles knows it but there’s nothing he can do about it. 

Derek presses against him, arm tightening around his waist, letting his cock brush against Stiles’ ass.

Stiles’ cock gets even harder, Derek lets his hand wander down, past his navel, right onto Stiles’ erection through his boxers. The both of them are panting desperately, and it’s good, it’s great, but Derek wants to see Stiles, wants to know how much he’s enjoying this, so he stops and flips him on his back, climbing half on top of him, a leg between Stiles’ and his weight on his elbow just beside Stiles’ head.

And Stiles looks at him, with this sweet smile gently curving his lips, eyes bright and full of tenderness, looking right into Derek’s. Derek startles. He stills for a moment until his body can’t stand it anymore and his mouth moves of its own accord.

“I love you,” he says, then he curses at himself inside his head, expects Stiles to freeze and shove Derek off of him. But Stiles’ smile just widens, a small chuckle escapes his lips, and his hands frame Derek’s face, caress his cheeks, his eyelids, the arch of his mouth and his lips. And finally, finally, Stiles leans in and presses his lips against Derek’s

And that’s what pushes Derek over the brink, he just can’t stop it, he lets their lips meet, their tongues taste each other’s, starts rutting their erections, chests pressed close, not even an inch between them. When he can feel Stiles’ breath become heavier and their kisses sloppy, he just lets his mouth wander.

Derek kisses Stiles’ cheek, the edge of his mouth, under his ear, his chin, his neck. He kisses his collarbone, arches down to suck Stiles’ left nipple in his mouth, gently bites on it, pulling a moan from Stiles’ lips, peppers a trail of saccharine, hot kisses on his chest, back to his neck, up to his lips. They don’t quite kiss again, but it’s a close thing, their breaths mingling and their thrusts against each other erratic now, close to coming.

When their lips finally clash against each other, they both come, sounds swallowed in each other’s mouths, in each other’s chests, swelling in both of them. And it’s sleepy, and it’s amazing.

When their eyes meet, for some reason, they just can’t keep it in, both giggling like children, happy, content. They face each other on their sides, Stiles caresses Derek’s face again, Derek leaving hot prints all over Stiles’ side, breaths calming down, almost asleep again.

And Stiles just says “I love you, too.”


End file.
